


Fading

by CrowCircle



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Galio - Freeform, M/M, public bathroom sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-26 04:30:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21368215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowCircle/pseuds/CrowCircle
Summary: Maybe he was drunk, and maybe being drunk made him more sentimental and prone to superstition, but staring into those pale lilac eyes—Galo could believe in the red string of fate.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 12
Kudos: 165





	1. Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, here’s that met at the club and fucked then met by chance later fic that nobody asked for but everyone wants. :3c Enjoy!

Music thundered through the stereos, night life at its finest in one of dozens of sleazy clubs in the heart of the city. Maybe it was cliche to try and forget about life’s problems by slinking past a bouncer and downing too many shots of _something_ the bartender offered, voice drowned out by the pounding of the bass and mass of moving bodies and conversation and laughing and yelling, but losing oneself to the masses was preferable sometimes. A lot of the time. Less time to think. 

Aina glanced over from another conversation when Galo stood from the bar, tilting her head. He ruffled her hair, earning a glare before he turned and disappeared into the undulating crowd, letting the press of others all around move him in his overly-tipsy state. He couldn’t keep track of the music, only the steady pulsing of the beat and the movement of the crowd. Galo let his eyes close, breathing deeply and just _moving_—no thinking or other form of mental strain required. 

When he opened his eyes again, who knows how much later, he was well and truly in the thick of the dance floor, no exit in sight. That was fine. He was in the perfect state just then, feeling amazing. His inebriated gaze slid across the throng of bodies moving in front of him, catching on a patch of pale against the dark, some four or five people in front of him. Blonde, but not just yellow—something like the color of pure moonlight, captured and spun into hair, and milky skin underneath. Galo found himself staring, caught in the snare of pink and blue highlights bouncing from his brightly colored features. He didn’t even realize he had stopped moving, stopped dancing, getting pressed and shoved against like sloshing sea water against a cliff. 

When he turned, the slope of slight shoulders curving when he brought his arms up over his head, Galo felt himself flush at the sight of a symmetrical, delicate face, eyes closed and long, nearly translucent eyelashes fanned out against his cheekbones. Galo swallowed. 

It was over when he opened his eyes, pale lilac sliding from the side to land on himself, lifting up to his face, and then a once-over. Galo suddenly felt very self-conscious and awkward, out of place and still in a churning ocean. The other met his gaze, slowing as well, though not entirely to a stop, as he was too small to weather the moving crowd as Galo could. 

He tilted his head to the side, _cute_, blinking with a meaning that, in Galo’s hazy mind, didn’t register. He could only swallow, clenching his jaw, and blink his widened eyes in response. 

That seemed to do the trick. Their gazes held as he slithered through the crowd with confidence, until he stood right in front of Galo, pressed up against his front, over a head shorter and looking up at such a sharp angle that it might have been comical in any other context. As it was, Galo could only feel heat and want, small glove-covered fingertips dancing their way up his chest to hook in the collar of his shirt, pulling him down like gravity. 

Galo wasn’t surprised when he was dragged into a kiss, strong and heady and tasting like the alcohol they’d both drank, but the angle was awkward even with the other standing on his toes. They persisted for as long as they could, until a wayward body hit up against Galo’s back, nearly toppling him over. They broke apart, Galo’s hands tight on a small waist, an effort to keep him from falling backward with the sudden shove. 

He blinked, eyes lidded when they did open, and slid his hands from Galo’s biceps to his hands, and tugged with purpose. Within moments, he was being led through the crowd behind that bobbing lunar hair, and it was a wonder he didn’t stumble and fall through the masses as they made it through to a wall. Pale hair swayed as he turned his head to glance sidelong at Galo, a smile on his lips. Galo felt his heart pound at the look, then began moving again when he was tugged. 

They followed the wall until the crowd began to thin, and then become sparse. Galo let himself be dragged through a door, the sign blurred as he tried to focus on it, but recognizable enough for him to realize he was being pulled into a bathroom. It was bright compared to the darkness of the club outside, but all Galo could see was blonde and lilac as the man hopped up on the counter, pulling Galo forward and in between his parted thighs to meet again in a messy kiss, those gloved fingers running through his hair. 

Galo followed the rhythm set by the other helplessly, his arms snaking around that small waist to pull them flush together, a grunt leaving him as teeth bit down onto his bottom lip and pulled. He responded in kind, finally finding his drive and pressing forward demandingly, causing the other to arch his back until he was bent backwards, head nearly pressed against the mirror behind him. 

Their hips ground together, both quickly becoming more frantic until a pained groan escaped from between swollen, shiny lips, and Galo pulled back for a moment. Deft fingers, even in their gloves (that only covered half of his hands—fuck, why was that so hot?) began to pull at the button of his pants, quickly pressing inside and grabbing at his already super-hard cock. He watched a pink tongue swipe across puffy lips, and balked at the smirk he found there, as well as the words it accompanied: 

“God, I love it when I’m right.” 

It was a breathy whisper, self-satisfied and excited, and Galo nearly whined at the squeeze around his dick that came next. With a slight downward turn of his mouth, his hands moved to push at the waistband of Galo’s pants instead, stopping only when they were down around his thighs. Galo heard a soft moan, those lilac eyes staring hungrily at his cock before he made a show of arching his back and spreading his thighs even wider, lifting his hips to run a hand over his own straining erection, biting down on his lip as he pressed down, hips bucking up. 

Galo didn’t need a written invitation—he stepped forward again, nearly ripping his black pleather jeans at the seams; he might have popped the button off as it was. He didn’t know, couldn’t care, and his partner didn’t seem to notice either way. On his back on the counter, in full view of anybody unfortunate enough to walk in, the man with blonde hair and a beautiful face lay with his arms above his head, bare legs wrapped tightly around Galo’s waist, his pants thrown somewhere on the floor nearby. 

“Here,” he grunted, pressing a foil pack into Galo’s hand, impatience in his eyes even as he looked him over again. “Don’t worry about the rest. Just put that on and put it in.” The last part came out as a moan as his back arched up, his own cock so hard it looked painful—Galo could sympathize. He wasted no time, tearing open the condom and rolling it on, doing his best to concentrate on his own dick and not on the body gyrating underneath him. 

Finally, _finally_ he grabbed his own cock in one hand and a sharp hip bone with the other, salivating at the thought of pressing in when those skinny legs opened up for him. 

“Don’t hold back, I can take it,” he moaned, his fingers having moved to clench white-knuckled at the edge of the counter as he waited. 

Maybe he trusted him implicitly, or maybe he was just that drunk—sober Galo wouldn’t give it dry to anybody, permission or not. Drunk, horny, smitten Galo, though? He looked down and couldn’t resist when he was being asked so sweetly. He pressed forward hard, harder than he really meant to, and nearly came just from being halfway in. The scream that tore from the body beneath him forced a pause, and he nearly pulled out in concern before there were needle-sharp nails (where were those sexy gloves?) in his shoulders, and deceptively strong thighs clamped around his waist. 

“Don’t you dare fucking stop,” he snarled, his back arched so violently that it had to be painful. Galo wanted to argue, and nearly did, but the look in those pale eyes was pleading and begging, and who was he to deny him?

Galo went _hard_. 

His moans were drowned out by the screeching and begging and cursing and crying of the man beneath him, but Galo couldn’t stop—wouldn’t, not after the invitation he’d received. He wouldn’t last long anyway, with the alcohol and that pretty face streaked with tears flipping from side to side as he writhed on Galo’s cock. He eyes slid down to where he disappeared into that pink, abused hole, and his cock bobbing with every movement above it, and Galo bit down on his own lip so hard he tasted blood when he came, thrusting hard until he was spent. He fell to his elbows on either side of the other, who lay limply under him. When Galo was able to open his eyes again, he was met with a heaving chest, streaks of cum trailing all the way up to his collar bones. 

Galo heard a whine when he pulled out, taking care of the condom with clumsy fingers. He resituated his pants, and felt a shiver of heat slide down his spine at the sight of lilac eyes still staring sightlessly at the ceiling, thighs spread wide with everything on display—

Even drunk, even blissed out and still overly horny, Galo couldn’t let him lay like that, not where just anybody could see him. He managed to spot his pants nearby, and gingerly pulled him forward until his feet could touch the ground, helping him dress in the fumbling, awkward way that only two not-sober people could achieve. 

“You broke my pants,” he said, looking up at Galo with an unreadable expression. Galo blinked, looking down. They were sitting back on his hips now, but the zipper was open in a way that somehow looked hot as fuck—because the zipper was _gone_. 

“Oh, I. Um. Sorry, I can…” Galo fumbled, mind not wrapping around the correct response. 

“It’s fine...for a ride like that, I’ll forgive you.” He leaned up on his toes, wincing a little, and pressed a relatively chaste kiss on Galo’s lips, lingering a few moments before he turned to walk out of the bathroom. “See you around,” he smiled, and disappeared. 

Galo watched him go, awestruck, and swallowed hard. It was only after several minutes of standing in place, drunkenly trying to comprehend what had happened that he realized he hadn’t even gotten a name.


	2. Shot

“Cheer up, Galo. You’ve been a depressed wraith, floating around aimlessly for the past like...three weeks.”

Galo stared ahead at the road, scowling at the comment. 

“I’ll do as I please, and without commentary from the peanut gallery unless you want to find another ride.”

Remi put his hands up in surrender, turning to look out the passenger side window. 

“Still no luck, then?”

Galo sighed, shaking his head. “Not that I even go to clubs that often anyway...it’s not even fun anymore when I’m just looking around the whole time.”

“Hey, keep at it. Follow your dreams, and...all that, I guess,” Remi shrugged. 

“Nice, very encouraging,” Galo huffed, pressing on the brakes as they approached a red light. 

“Sorry man, I really suck at the consolation stuff. In all honesty...if it’s eating you that bad, at least try to find him to tell him. There’s no shame in it. Won’t know anything til you try.” The last part came out a little wistfully, and Galo shot him a sideways glance, darting back to the road quickly. 

“We talkin’ about me or you, now?”

“You, of course.”

“Yeah? Well, let’s talk about you. For your own good, as your friend, I think you should set your sights elsewhere.”

Remi scoffed, folding his arms over his chest and looking petulantly to the side. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t be like that,” Galo groaned, rolling his eyes. “You’ve got a group project with the dude you’ve been going gaga over, but you know for a _fact_ that he’s taken. It won’t end well. Don’t press it.”

“I don’t think I asked for your advice,” Remi sniffed in response, sliding the bridge of his glasses up his nose. 

“I said my piece,” Galo agreed, shrugging. “I’m taking you to his place for your study session. I’m just concerned for you, buddy. Don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I appreciate the thought, but I think I can handle it myself. And you have permission to hang at his house, too, while you wait on us. He’s got a couple of roommates in a pretty sweet rental right next to campus, so there’s room to chill.”

Galo nodded absently, not really planning on staying. He’s graduated a couple of years past, and didn’t really want to go back into the hell that was studying and group projects ever again, even second-hand. It was a nice offer, but he’d be more comfortable in a cafe, or watching a movie or something. He generally didn’t like to leave his apartment on his one day off a week, but Remi was desperate and Galo had a car—a _nice_ car. And a motorcycle. But the bike was better suited for speed and long treks, not hauling lots of school work and laptops. 

“Turn left, and then...yeah, that one,” Remi pointed at a fairly large house on the corner, and Galo parked in front. He helped Remi heft a couple of bags from the trunk, and they walked up to the door. Remi pressed the bell and immediately there was a deep chorus of barking, overlapping and suggesting two large dogs somewhere inside. Galo grinned; he _loved_ dogs. He wished the station had a Dalmatian. 

“Coming, coming,” came a muffled call, and then the door opened. A tall, somehow elegant figure emerged, despite the sweatpants and tank top. He had long, dark hair, swept over one of his eyes—somehow, he pulled it off without looking like an emo band reject. 

_Pretty_, Galo thought, and could see where Remi was coming from. 

“Hi, Remi. Thanks for doing this at my place today,” he smiled apologetically. “Gueira’s using the car right now.” He looked up, one blue eye meeting Galo’s, and he cocked his head, smiling. “Oh, my. Who might you be?”

“This is my friend Galo,” Remi introduced. “He actually gave me a ride, my car is in the shop. Galo, Meis,” he motioned between them, then stepped in at Meis’s invitation. 

“I’m just the help, I won’t be in your hair for long,” Galo grinned as he stepped by Meis. 

“Oh, no worries. Remi mentioned he’d have a friend. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like, or...for a drink, at least—I’ve made a whole pitcher of mojitos.”

Well. Who was Galo to say no to _that_? He stepped inside behind them, dropping Remi’s bags in the living room where Meis seemed to be set up, then moseyed over to the kitchen. He took the glass offered to him gratefully, taking a sip and raising his eyebrows. 

“Wow, that’s really good,” he complimented, taking another drink. 

“Thanks,” Meis smiled. “These seem to be the hair of the dog for Gueira, so I made plenty.”

After that, the conversation turned pointedly toward school and project planning, and Galo found himself spacing out. He looked out a window in the living room, the other two chattering away behind him, and he admired the large backyard. How did a couple of university students afford such a nice place? He lived in a literal hole in the wall when he was going through college, and usually chose between electricity and food every month. Hell, he basically lived at the station for most of it anyway—

His thoughts were interrupted when a large Doberman bounded up to him, suspicious at first, but after a few derisive sniffs, excited with a wagging tail nub. Galo reached down and scratched behind its ears, admiring his sleek, black coat. 

“And what’s your name, precious?” he asked, kneeling down to get at eye level with it. 

“Embers! Food time,” came a sleepy call from beyond the kitchen, out of sight. 

The dog left immediately, trotting back to where he’d come from. 

Galo stood again, sighing. Maybe the dog would come back when it was done eating. He went and sat on the couch across from Meis and Remi, who were looking at a laptop on the coffee table between them. 

“Oh, good morning, sleeping beauty,” Meis chuckled, looking behind Galo. 

“Morning,” came a yawned reply, and Galo could hear soft footsteps along with the clacking of dog feet on the hard floor. He glanced to the side to see the newcomer, glass to his lips as he took a drink, and nearly spit it all out at the sight. 

It was _him_—the guy he’d been looking for, the one he couldn’t stop thinking about—

Galo choked, managing not to spit across the room, but all three looked to him in concern. 

“Y—you!” was all he could manage, pointing at the confused man. 

“Me…” he answered, unsure.

Galo wasn’t able to expand any further on that, taking in sleep-rumpled hair and the oversized shirt that reached to mid-thigh on him, and was he even wearing anything underneath? Not the right time, not the right place. Still, his eyes were stuck between staring at his face and his bare legs. 

Violet eyes widened in sudden comprehension, his hands clapping together. 

“Oh! You’re that hot guy I fucked at the club!” He cocked his head, looking him over, and Galo suddenly felt very self-conscious in his t-shirt and jeans. 

Remi made a choking noise and Meis was snickering behind a hand, but Galo couldn’t pay attention to them; he was finally caught in the gaze he’d been searching for. 

“Small world, huh?” he smiled, before continuing his walk to the kitchen, two large dogs trailing behind him with eager eyes. 

Before Galo knew it, he was on his feet and following. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen between the dogs, watching as blonde hair bobbed with every movement of grabbing a bowl and cereal. 

“Want some food?” he asked, not turning his head from what he was doing. 

“What’s your name?” Galo blurted, unable to stop himself. 

He looked over, considering the question. 

“Am I that memorable?” he chuckled. “Consider me flattered.”

Galo didn’t reply, but waited for his answer. 

“You really wanna know that bad?”

Galo nodded. 

He finally turned to give Galo his full attention, and quirked his lips to the side. 

“What's in it for me?”

God, Galo could listen to the sound of his voice all day. 

“...What do you want?”

That seemed to be the correct answer. He smiled, all of the sweet sleepiness gone as his eyes went sharp and the claws came out. He stalked over, lithe and smooth as he had been back in the club, stopping right in front of him as he had before and looking straight up. 

“Just a kiss.”

Galo leaned down, helpless, and felt fingers reach up to touch his cheeks, and he was kissing his favorite stranger again, though at a much less demanding pace than before. He bit down gently to pull at his lip and press inside, stepping forward until he forced the other to break away and get up onto the counter he was backed up against. 

“This is a lot more than a kiss,” he murmured against Galo’s lips, before he opened his mouth and let him back inside. 

“You’re not saying no,” Galo answered a few moments later when he had to draw back for breath, nuzzling their noses together. 

He hummed in response, drawing back and sighing with satisfaction, breath heavy as he looked up into Galo’s eyes. 

“You have a phone?” he asked. 

Galo fumbled for a moment, before he pulled it out of his back pocket, unlocking and placing it into a delicate, waiting hand. 

He swiped and began typing, before he swiped again and held it out at arm’s length to the side, taking a selfie with a wink and a peace sign. Galo watched as he brought it back in front of himself and typed for another moment before it was handed back to him, screen still on. 

It was his contact info, complete with name and phone number, and the selfie he took moments ago as his profile picture. 

“Lio Fotia,” Galo murmured, looking up. “I’m Galo. Galo Thymos.”

“I know,” Lio smiled, leaning forward to press one last kiss to his mouth. He pushed Galo back and hopped down from the counter, grabbing his cereal and making his way toward the door. “Embers, Crow,” he called, and the two dogs stood from the doorway where they had lain down. He looked over his shoulder where Galo stood where he left him. “You coming?”

Galo grinned, then followed happily as Lio led the way back to the living room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y’all don’t think Remi and Meis is aesthetically pleasing you have a right to your opinion.....even if it’s wrong LOL

**Author's Note:**

> Please scream with me on Twitter! @AttaliaKenway


End file.
